


Beneath an Eastern Sky

by Caranraw Greyhame (Atrus)



Series: Beneath the same skies [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mutual Pining, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Roegadyn (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atrus/pseuds/Caranraw%20Greyhame
Summary: It's the eve of the final battle for Doma, and Lord Hien wishes to see his family home one last time before the fight.Caranraw, the Warrior of Light, has something that he needs to say to Hien, but he doesn't know how...
Relationships: Hien Rijin/Warrior of Light
Series: Beneath the same skies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800427
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Beneath an Eastern Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during "The Doma Within" and "Rhalgr’s Beacon". Some dialogue taken from game.  
> The WoL is my big, dumb Roegadyn bard, Caranraw Greyhame. 
> 
> Many thanks go to my beta reader Rowland Gwynne, who also suggested to tie the splishy-splashy to Hien's sudden revelation.
> 
> Also holy carp, this is my first published fan fiction in over a decade. Please be kind. XD

Hien looks at the katana I found among the rubble. His mouth is set, but I know him enough by now to recognize the flash of emotion in his eyes. Thinking, always thinking. The past, a weight he can’t shrug. The future, a weight he has taken on for himself. Too much weight for such young shoulders, no matter how strong. 

“I recognize the crest. It belonged to the son of a samurai I trained with when I was young. He never even had the chance to draw it…”

He sent me looking for weapons for the Resistance, and instead found a piece of the past to haunt him with. I curse myself inwardly, but I’m not surprised. The smouldering remains of Monzen are just another battlefield for me, but to him, they’re the ruins of his home, still smoking. Quite literally, in some places.

He lays the katana on the ground, reverently, and turns to the water. “There she is. Doma Castle. My home.”

I only half listen as he tells me of his past, and I feel guilty about it, but the weight in my own heart is sending my brain in turmoil, trying to find the right way to say what I need to say, or whether I should speak at all or forever hold my peace.

I snap back to attention as he talks of stories, though. 

“What is life if not a story? The story of our journey from dawn to dusk, day after day after day. The story of our mothers and our fathers, our families and our friends, our peoples and our nations. I think a part of me understood that, when I looked out from that keep. Hien, son of Kaien. Another caretaker of the story of Doma.”

My hands act faster than my thoughts, resting suddenly on Hien’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing gently at the nape of his neck. 

The metal of the shoulder pads bites into my palms, but all I can think of is the warmth of his skin. It takes most of my willpower not to lean in and bury my face in his hair, take his scent in.

My hands are so big on him. It’s so rare a Hyur that doesn’t make me feel like a giant. 

Hien only makes me feel small when it comes to purpose.

Though he has his back to me, I can feel him smiling by the way his stance relaxes, the way he leans against my hands, knowing I’ll support his weight. “You don't have to hold me in place, you know. I already said I'm not going to storm the castle by myself,” Hien says, purring the last few words as I knead into his shoulder blades, “unless something else is troubling your mind, my friend?”

“My lord,” I start, but he covers my right hand with his and stops me. 

“Now, now. I can just about tolerate such formalities from Yugiri and Gosetsu, and I will have none from you. We are Steppe brothers, are we not?”

“That we are.” 

Brothers. 

I could say what’s really on my mind, but I don't. Instead I panic and, as usual, blurt the first thing that comes unbidden through my mind. "Don't these straps chafe without an undershirt? And these knots, they seem a poor way to keep your armor in place? What if they fail, or someone cuts them, in the middle of combat?" 

_ Smooth, Caranraw. This is why you usually shut up and let Alphinaud do all the talking, at the cost of making people think you're mute.  _

Hien’s shoulders rise in a silent chuckle, and he humors me with a reply. "My armor is properly padded against my skin, and these knots are stronger than they look. Not to mention, anyone who gets close enough to cut these cords may as well aim for my neck. Or try to." He passes a hand over the cross-shaped scar on his arm. "Have you seen my armor give me discomfort during our time in the steppe, to make you have these doubts?"

I stop to think. "No, not at all. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen you without your armor, or your dogi." 

This time Hien turns his head, blinks. "What? No, that can't be. Never, really?"

"I'm quite certain. You kept it on even while sleeping. It was getting, uh, quite ripe after a while, but I wasn't sure if it was you or all the dung fires at the Mol campsite." 

"Are you saying, my friend, that I require a bath?" Hien quirks his brows and smirks, and I wonder how I got myself so quickly into trouble. But as the saying goes: when life throws you in the abyss, you might as well see if you can breathe underwater. 

"It certainly wouldn't hurt. I probably could do with one, too. Wouldn’t want the Garleans to call us  _ dirty savages _ while we’re bashing their heads in.”

Hien laughs, so loud and clear that for one moment I worry it might alert Imperial guards or the magatsu kiyofusa to our presence, and then one part of me thinks: let them come. No army can stand against the two of us, together. 

Hien takes one step forward, turning to face me. I suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands, now that they’re not resting on his shoulders any more, and I just let them drop at my sides. “That’s an excellent point. ‘Tis a pity that the creatures that inhabit these waters won’t let us have our ablutions in peace. And I don’t want to trouble someone at the House of the Fierce with drawing us a bath, not when there’s so much to prepare for tomorrow.”

It’s then that I remember that I  can  actually breathe underwater and survive under the deepest pressures. I thank the kami for that Kojin ritual and smile. 

“I know just the place.”

Our yol deposit us on a small basin in the Gensui Chain, to the south and east of Namai. 

There is a spring here dotted with little islets, small stretches of soil where plum trees grow and blossom, tinging the whole place in pink. Water sprites hover lazily about, drawing ripples.

“A hidden pool, surrounded by mountains, unreachable from the ground” Hien says, patting his flying mount in thanks before setting it free, “How did you happen upon this place?”

“I was flying around Namai for reconnaissance when I spotted these trees,” I reply, “I don’t think I would have given them much thought had they not been in bloom, but it was such a pretty sight, I just had to land down and see for myself.”

Hien smiles and my stomach does somersaults. “An admirably strong warrior that still stops to smell the flowers. It’s these apparent contradictions that make you so unique, my friend.”

I blush, hoping the blue-grey of my skin covers the worst of it, and turn away from him with the excuse of taking off my gambeson. 

When I face him again, I see that he has shrugged off his kōgake and removed the other sleeve of his dogi, but nothing more. He’s still evaluating the spring for blind spots or weak points we may be attacked from, a deeply ingrained habit from his life as a refugee of the Resistance.    
It takes a few minutes for him to relax completely, but eventually he must deem us safe enough from danger, and he dips his toes in the water. His eyes rise in surprise. “It’s warm. I expected a mountain spring to be ice cold.”

“Maybe it’s thermal?” I ask, uncertain, “The owner of the _onsen_ in Kugane told me that all springs are different. Some are lukewarm, and some are so hot they can burn.”

Hien sits at the edge of an islet, splishy-splashing his feet in the warm water. It’s such an incongruous image that I almost laugh. “I’ve been to Kugane with my father, back when the Garleans still pretended that we had some authority, but we never went to the hot springs. Are they anything like Spring Lake?”

“Not quite. There’s not as many colors, and there’s no crystals. Fewer crazed Namazu as well. And the people there are very undressed, as one tends to do when taking a bath.”

Hien rolls his eyes, but starts undoing the straps on his armor. “Fine, I can take a hint. But if you tell me that you just happen to have rubbing oils in your satchel, I’ll have to wonder how long you have been planning this.”

“No oils, but I have some nice, orange-scented Noscean soap,” I say, fishing for a bundle of waxed paper in my backpack, “Alphinaud is as excellent at strategy as he’s terrible at packing, so I always carry an extra amount of essentials just in case. I also bought some Yanxian verbena soap from the village, but I was saving it for the return trip.”

“I would try a scent from your home,” Hien says, shrugging off his dogi, his armguards, his greaves, and then he flashes me an impish grin that makes me decide that he’s the most evil man in Othard. “And you can rub my back, like you wanted to do in Monzen.”

No amount of skin pigmentation can hide my blushing now, and I retreat silently into the task of taking my boots off without tripping all over my shoes. 

I put the boots to one side and make to unfasten my trousers when I feel Hien’s hands on my bare back, a mirror of our previous stance by the river. 

“Caranraw,” my name is soft on his lips, and unexpected, “pray tell me what this is really about. If ought is troubling you, I’d rather know about it before the battle.”

He knows. How can he not know, after this? 

But still I’m afraid to say it, afraid like I’ve not been of any fight, any dragon, any deadly banquet. And so I turn to answer, but I still take the long way round, like a coward.

“Hien. I was thinking… whichever way goes tomorrow, these will be my last few days in Doma.”

Hien is silent, then his head dips once. “It is strange, is it not? I’ve only known you for such a short time, but after all we’ve done together… Don’t get me wrong, I understand your reasons. If we win, you will have to press your advantage in Ala Mhigo before the Empire can recover, and you have a very long journey in front of you. Time is of the essence.”

“ _ When _ we win,” I say, inching closer, “By the end of tomorrow, Doma will be free, and you will be its rightful ruler, not just by blood and by right, but by deed.”

Hien holds my gaze, and he feels taller than me somehow.

“If we’re talking of deeds, then it’s you who gets the lion’s share. None of this would be possible without you. Without your victory at the Naadam-”

“Our victory,” I correct him again, emboldened. “I may have claimed the ovoo, but it was only possible because of you, and Lyse, and Gosetsu, and all the Mol. I only became khagan so you would have your army.”

“Not cut out for a life on the steppe, eh? Do not worry, I’m sure Temulun and Cirina will fill in your shoes quite well - until the next Naadam, at least.” Hien’s smile is contagious, and I find myself returning it. “I still cannot thank you enough for that. I know I sound very confident, and I know that I had a chance at winning the Naadam… but you, my friend, you made that a certainty. I can see why they call you the Hero of Eorzea. Maybe the Hero of Othard, soon.”

His compliments should make the next part easier to say, instead I find my tongue knotting itself as my words stumble on my lips. “Thank you, my… Hien. But that’s the point. I didn’t do it for the glory of such a title. I’m not sure I even did it wholly for Doma, though that was certainly the plan. I…did it for you.”

Hien crosses his arms and smirks like the coeurl cub that ate the proverbial mouse. “Go on.”

Damn him. 

“You’re… Since the first moment I saw you on that hill I knew you were special. Strong, wise, bold. Full of drive, of purpose. You were ready to give your life there and then if it would have eased your people’s suffering a little.”

He cocks his head. “You don’t have people you’d do the same for?”

I bite my lip. Do I tell him? And if not him, now, who then? “The first thing I remember in this world is waking up on an airship set for Gridania. I knew my name, and why I wanted to go there, and who I wanted to be… but that was it. Hydealin hijacked my path and gave me a new purpose, but the price was getting rid of who I was.”

The young lord bids me continue.

“I found companions there, among the Scions, and the Twin Adder, and a few others beside. There were people I would have pledged fealty to, had they wanted it, but they all felt it better that I remain neutral and not devoted to a lone city state… or to them. And so I just… went, where the Scions or Hydealin sent me, doing what I was expected to do, whether that was slaying Primals, or fighting the Empire, or brokering a peace between man and dragon. Or liberating Ala Mhigo.”

“And liberating Doma as part of the plan to do the latter. Is that it?” Hien said, “As much as I appreciate your help, I never expected you to believe in the freedom of my country as much as I. I do not fault you for it. If anything, what you’re doing for us is above and beyond what I expected of any ally.”

I shake my head. I’m saying it all wrong. “No, no that’s not- Look, at first this was just another mission, and you were someone else to help like many before, another grand detour before our destination. But then we spent all that time together in the steppe… Those silly competitions you cooked up, to see who could catch more beasts, or who would come out first from Bardam’s Mettle, and then you never cared who would actually win because the true joy was in the chase… Your laughter at the bonfires…” I sigh. “By the time we got to the Naadam, this wasn’t just another assignment. This was personal. I wanted  _ you _ to win the Naadam. I wanted  _ you _ to reclaim Doma.”

A chill breeze from the mountain makes us both shiver. Soon the sun will begin its journey downward, and I will have lost my chance to say what I feel before we have to return to the House of the Fierce. It is now or never. 

So of course Hien surprises me by going first. “And I wanted to win, and I wanted to free my people, but there was only me in that picture, and my loyal retainers one step behind me. But now, when I picture those accomplishments, there is you at my side.”

The young lord turns, paces the islet, stares down at the water. “Yugiri believes in me and what I stand for. Gosetsu sees me as my father’s son. As much as I try, there is a line with them that I can never cross, that will always keep us one foot apart. But that line doesn’t exist with you. You are my friend because you want to be. My ally. My… partner?”

My heart is like a war drum in my chest. Did he actually say…? Did he actually mean…? 

I cross the distance between us, hovering at his back, just shy of touching him. “Just say the word,” I whisper in his hair, “and I will stay at your side forever. I will be your right arm, your champion, your fortress, whatever you want me to be.”

The answer comes only a few heartbeats later, and it feels like being stabbed. 

“I cannot say it. I  _ dare _ not.”

My head drops and I take a step back, but Hien turns, and his stare is enough to fix me in place. “I dare not because I would not be the man that ripped you away from your duty. I would not be able to look Lyse in the eye again, or Yugiri, or Gosetsu. Or you. I would have you at my side, a perpetual reminder of the people I made you abandon, the promises I made you break. And you would rightly grow to hate me for it.”

He closes the distance, his hands tracing the lines of my arms. “And would you really do it? Would you be able to go to Lyse and tell her that she’ll have to free Ala Mhigo without you? Could you go to Alphinaud and tell him that the Hero of Eorzea will leave his land undefended?”

I stare into the ground, trying to force a different answer out of my lips, but we both know it won’t come. “No. No, I couldn’t.”

Hien’s fingers reach under my chin, raising my eyes to his own. Those eyes so beautiful, full of softness in stead of their usual fire. 

“Tomorrow is out of our hands, my beautiful friend, and our paths will soon be forced to diverge.” His smile is brighter than the sun and moon. “But we still have today.”

He’s right. Those knots are damn hard to undo. 

Taking off his faulds and cuirasse is a struggle as our lips meet and we crash against a plum tree that had no other fault than being there to stop our path. I reach for the ribbon in his hair as he pulls the strings that hold up my trousers, and all the time our mouths are locked, teeth knocking, tongues exploring. Kissing him is like ice and like fire and like rain at midnight. It’s a bottomless pool and I keep falling down until he’s the only light left. 

With all out of the way but our smallclothes, we roll into the water. The splash disturbs the pattern of the sprites and sends them circling around us like an ethereal crown. My hand finds his bare ass as his teeth graze at my neck and my chest, forcing a whimper out of my lips. 

“You’re mine,” Hien says as we emerge for breathing, pinning me under him like he’s the giant between us, “You will be, no matter how many yalms divide us, how many oceans stand between us. You will be mine and I will be yours, tomorrow like today like any other day until the sun stops shining.”

And then his mouth is on me again, and all my worries fade like dreams.

It is some time later, spent and happy and panting into each other, that we reach for the soap and start rubbing each other clean. I doubt we’ll be able to hide our newfound closeness from the more perceptive eyes, Alisaie and Yugiri in particular, but we can at least scrub away the worst of the evidence. 

I’m so comfortably tired that it takes me a few moments to notice that Hien has stopped soaping me up and is now just tracing circles in the lather.

“Gil for your thoughts?” 

“Just thinking,” he shifts against me, “about time lost. There was never much thought for romance in my life. At first I was a prisoner in my own castle, then I was part of a resistance, and then an exile on the steppe, planning the freedom of my country. It took me too long to recognise these feelings for what they are.“

“What about Cirina?”

Hien blinks. “Cirina? What about her?”

“Oh. My. Gods.” I laugh, propping myself up on my elbows, “And I thought I was oblivious! That girl raves about you. You’re the sun to her moon, like Azim and Nhaama. With all the time she spends sighing behind your back, I’m surprised to learn you didn’t already woo her under the moonlight and promise her a crown in Doma!” I bring a hand to my heart and pretend to swoon, and Hien smears a soapy hand all over my face in retaliation. 

“You have a dirty mind! But no, as much as I care for Cirina and the Mol, she was never more than a good friend to me. Besides, I doubt she would be happy away from the steppe. Doma is very different from her home, and a crown in a castle is not a crown full of sky.”

I cup some water in my hands and wipe the soap from my face. “It may be a good marriage of convenience, though. Something to solidify the bond between Yanxia and the steppe.”

“Is this how you want to spend our time together then? Trying to marry me off for political advantage?”

I turn to lie side by side with Hien, wrapping an arm about him and pulling him closer. “No, but it’s something you’ll have to think of. Your freedom will be unstable, and you’ll have to do everything in your power to solidify it. Hold off the imperials, rebuild the country. Make allies. Marry. Produce an heir.”

Hien buries his face in my chest, his long hair making a messy crown about him. “They cannot make me. I’ll wait for you. Name  _ you _ my heir.”

I snort. “I’m older than you, and it would make for a very weird relationship besides. But if you want me to call you ‘daddy’, I will.”

Hien looks puzzled. “Is that a thing lovers do?”

“Sometimes.” I lean in to kiss him. “But I’m serious, Hien. I cannot ask you to wait for me. Even with the Aetherytes, it’s going to be weeks, if not months, between each visit. A leader needs to have someone strong at their side, someone they can rely on, not an adventurer who’s who knows where, a million malms away.”

“Is there truly no way to have both?”

I hesitate. “It’s… unusual, but some people make it work. There are those with more than one romantic partner, or more than one sexual partner, or both. Personally, as long as everyone’s happy and honest about it, I don’t see the harm in it.”

“I see. And by ‘some people’, do you mean yourself?” 

I smile demurely. “What gave it away?”

“My sweetest Caranraw, I’ve seen you flirt with all the Xaela men in the steppe, all the while you were supposedly pining after me. You are not subtle.”

“That’s not true!” I protest, “...only with the half-dressed ones.”

Hien ruffles my hair. “I am not saying that I blame you for it. And Lyse told me some stories about you, as well.”

“Oh no, she didn’t.”

“I’m afraid she did. So, this Bull of Ala Mhigo. Was he…?” 

He mimics something unmistakeable, and I shake my head and laugh. “It was his name in the arena, not in bed. Well, not that I would know. He’s too married to his role to notice any of my flirting.”

“I see. And the Ishgardian, Aymeric?”

“We only had one dinner, and it was interrupted.”

“How convenient.” Hien spots a fallen blossom floating on the water and dips his fingers about it, steering it gently like the world’s tiniest boat, “And what about that strapping Confederacy sailor?”

I roll my eyes. “I only  _ hinted _ that I could pay the Ruby Tithe in nature… How did we even get to this topic?”

“You were trying to marry me off!” With a flash of a grin he flicks his hand and splashes me, sending the blossom-boat hurtling on the sudden tide. I pretend to topple over under the attack, thoroughly soaked up, and Hien straddles me, laughing, winner of the battle.  “While I had merely planned to see Doma Castle again after so long.” 

“Right,” I join in the laughter, raising my hands in surrender, “We kind of… derailed that plan.” 

“It’s all right,” he says, placing his palms on my chest, “It’s a fine castle, truly, with an even finer view. But in the end… in the end...”

Hien stares at his dripping hand, rivulets of water snaking their way down my chest. 

His gaze is so intense that I start wondering if something’s wrong. Before I can voice my worries, he jumps back to his feet and hurries to scrub the last of the soap away. “Kami strike me down, how could I be so blind?! We must return to the House of the Fierce at once!”

I rise more slowly, looking for a cloth to dry myself with. “Uh, all right. But what-”

Already he’s slipping back into the formal, precise speech patterns of the lord of Doma: “I have had what can only be described as a revelation. Alphinaud’s is an excellent plan, but not so excellent that it cannot be improved- and I know how!”

As he hurries to fasten his armor, I look at the young prince who stole my heart and smile: despite his protestations, his duty to Doma will always come first. As does my duty to mine. 

* * *

I leave without a word while he’s still talking at the Enclave, a prince with his nation, the victor of the day. It’s easier this way. No false illusions. No regrets. He can hate me, if it makes it easier to move on.

Despite Lyse’s insistence that we rush back to Ala Mhigo, I find ways to linger in place. There are last goodbyes to say, more Namazu with their odd requests, and the usual gaggle of people in Kugane who desperately require the help of a random stranger. 

Even Alphinaud’s patience is starting to wear thin. I catch him wondering if I’m planning a detour on the Azim steppe while I’m at it, but Alisaie is able to calm him down. She’s obviously figured me out by now, but she says nothing to the others, and for that I’m grateful. 

Eventually the ship can wait no longer and we make our way to the docks. We’re ready to embark when I hear the cries behind me. Two voices I didn’t think I’d hear so soon. One voice in particular.

I turn, and there he is. Huffing from the run, calling for the ship to stop, Hien reaches for our small party, with Yugiri right behind him.

“What are you two doing here?” Lyse voices my question, “Shouldn’t you be in Doma?”

“Shouldn’t you? You left with nary a word. I half-wondered if I had done something to offend.” His eyes flick briefly toward me as he says this, and I feel like throwing myself into the waters and sink into the deepest abyss.

Hien offers the forces of the newfound Doma nation to help in the liberation of Ala Mhigo, “if you would have us,” and Alphinaud asks if it wouldn't be better to concentrate on the defense of Doma. They keep talking about logistics, and of sending shinobi to incite revolt in other Garlean-occupied countries. I don’t listen. Alphy will repeat it to me during the long weeks at sea anyway.

I just keep staring at Hien, reading the message beneath his words, a message for me only. 

His final greeting is to Lyse, and then he bids Yugiri to come with us, to tell Eorzea of our new alliance. We haven’t said a word to each other, and now Tataru is urging us again to board the ship before they weigh anchor. 

As the others turn to leave, he looks at me. There is no judgment in his eyes for my cowardice, no resentment, only the pure, fiery purpose that made me fall in love with him in the first place. And so I mouth to him the words he said in Monzen, and he smiles, and I know everything will be alright. 

I’m standing at the stern of the ship, looking at Kugane’s port getting smaller, when Alisaie comes to find me.

“What did you say to him? I kept an eye on him as we departed, and he left in a much better mood than when he arrived.”

“Something he told me once about Doma.”

The answer seems to satisfy her and she pats my arm gently, then leaves me to my thoughts.

It’s only when the island has completely disappeared on the horizon that I let myself utter those words out loud. “I’ll carry our story with me, Hien. Wheresoever I go.”

* * *

I’m on a bridge converted into a bloody Castellum by the Garleans, being shot at by three Imperial cannons, pursued by magitek drones, and locked inside a barrier with Fordola the Butcher, traitor to Ala Mhigo. The woman lunges at me with her sword, slicing large gaps of aether in the air with every strike. I have no room to maneuver, and pretty soon I’ll be running out of arrows too. I grin. 

Ours was supposed to be a strike team, hitting the Velodyna bridge hard and fast while the greater part of the Imperial forces were busy with the Alliance. We didn’t anticipate that the leader of the Crania Lupi would ignore the bait and get back to us, but such is life with the Scions: an endless series of unfortunate events.

An explosion knocks the air out of my lungs, and one of Fordola’s drones aims true, piercing my armor. The taste of blood in my mouth is familiar at this point. The quantity, not so much. I fall to my knees as they all train their aim on me again, ready to finish me off.

I hear Lyse cry my name, and that brings me back to my senses long enough to roll out of the line of fire. Explosives and magic make a crater of the ground I was standing on just a moment earlier. 

My stunt bought me only a few precious seconds, but the wounds and the blood loss are making it hard to think. My sight is clouded. My legs are refusing to stand up. 

Fordola does not waste time gloating and charges at me again, shouting. “Hero or not, you’ll die like all the rest!”

I think she’s surprised that I’m still grinning. 

“I have an appointment on the other side of this bridge,” I whisper, “and you are in my way.”

In retrospect, just like the flood of Doma castle, Hien’s plan is absurd in its simplicity: if we’re too bound to our duties to be together, then we’ll just make those duties converge, if only for a time, if only on the same battlefield. All I have to do is pave the way for the assault on Ala Mhigo.

And if I’m going to do that, then it means that I’m not going to die here, on this stupid bridge. I’m gonna win this battle, and then I’m going to keep on fighting: for Lyse, for Conrad, for M’Naago… but also for Hien, and for me. For the first time in my life I’m fighting for something that I want, and I’m not gonna let an angry girl with a grudge keep me away from it, no matter how many toys she throws at me. 

Fordola jumps and time slows down, as something stirs in me like wildfire. A song breaks out inside my heart, strong and firm and full of purpose, like reeds bending in the gale, like the great roar of a waterfall. Like the sword arm of a samurai.

The brisk sharpness of a second wind spreads through my limbs like a jolt, and I dodge Fordola with ease. The Butcher is surprised by my sudden recovery, and that gives me the opening I need.

I strum a note on my bowstring and the next arrow I let loose hums through the air, singing of wind over the steppes and plum blossoms and sacrifice. It shatters Fordola’s drones without slowing and hits her right in the chest. Her breastplate saves her, but the impact still knocks her to the ground, and as she falls, so does the barrier. 

With the music still playing through me, I make short work of the cannons with a few caustic arrows, while Lyse knocks down the Skulls and the remaining soldiers. 

She joins me to face Fordola, back again on her feet, but we’re all distracted by the sound of a horn. M’Naago has completed her mission, and the Imperials run at the sight of the new flag, believing the Castellum to be overtaken by our forces. 

After a moment’s hesitation the Butcher joins them. Lyse makes to follow her, but then thinks better of it. We’ve scored a victory, but the end of the war is still long to come. There will be other occasions.

“Is that a new song?” she asks instead, “I haven’t heard you play it before.”

I nod, wheezing, taking stock of my new bruises. I can feel a few cracked ribs that will need the help of an actual healer if I’ll want to stand tomorrow. “That it is. I wrote a few drafts during our journey back, but it only clicked into place right now.”

“Well, I like it!” she shouts, pumping her fists in the air, “I hope to hear it a lot in the days to come! Does it have a name yet?”

I raise my eyes to the sun, shielding them with my glove. The same sun, the same story, no matter how many oceans divide us. “I call it…  _ ‘We will meet again beneath a western sky’ _ .”


End file.
